The latest release from Sigur Rós is a bare bones, “getting to know us” piece. The shy band least expected to go unplugged reappears after two years with a double-disc compilation of unreleased live rarities and fully acoustic tracks. Hvarf/Heim is the companion album to Sigur Rós’ new documentary “Heima,” which was filmed during their 2006-’07 tour of their home country, Iceland, and shown at this year’s Madison Popfest. Hvarf/Heim is not exactly a soundtrack, but an unveiled, down-to-earth approach to their renowned transcendental sound. The enigmatic band invites us _Heim_—meaning “home”—to reveal subtlety and humanity of their best-loved songs.
For those who hoped for something new and different, Hvarf/Heim may disappoint. The first disc, Hvarf_—meaning “disappeared” or “haven”—takes a look back to lost tracks from previous albums _( ), Ágætis Byrjun and particularly their 1997 debut Von. Reworked and expanded, live show favorites and early songs are transformed into anthems. Particularly impressive is “Hafsól”; the last track taken from Von is a 10-minute orchestral masterpiece rich in volume and drama, drifting toward cacophony in the last two minutes.
As always, Sigur Rós proves musical virtuosity in a modern sense by combining powerful strings with electric sounds and hope-filled themes. The EP starts with a track dismissed from _, “Salka”, named after bassist Georg Holm’s daughter, followed by crowd-favorite “Hljómalind”, “the rock song,” and the third track “Í gær,” which is a post-_Ágætis Byrjun gem from their prog-rock phase. The last two songs are taken from debut album, Von.
Hvarf brings together aspects from different stages of Sigur Rós’ career and re-introduces them as compositions instead of existential statements. Though the innocent, schoolboy vocals and life-affirming imaginary languages are still there, Sigur Rós sheds much of their mystery, now appearing as incredible musicians, not baffling aliens.
Disc two, Heim, is even better. Recorded live during their tour, the lack of electricity forced Sigur Rós to go entirely acoustic. Without the dissonance, Heim has a very natural feel. The string quartet and piano materialize familiar ethereal melodies such as “Samskeyti”—also “Untitled 3” off ( )—and “Starálfur”—the familiar song from “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou,” but this version makes it harder to imagine a large yellow submarine and animated sea creatures. The third track, “Voka,” was recorded during a protest of a dam that was about to cause a river overflow into several kilometers of Icelandic wilderness, inspiring the unplugged idea.
The songs taken from _ are performed in Jónsi Birgisson’s (vocals, guitar) made-up language, “hoplandic,” an amazing element of Sigur Rós, and _Heim conjures domestic lyrics akin to “I Sat by the Fire.” The fourth song, “Ágætis Byrjun,” has an almost Norah Jones-jazz room sound with light percussion and a poppy melody. Shying away from experimentation, this track leaves your head bobbing. “Heysátan” gives a feel of Icelandic country by starting off with the sounds of birds chirping, and conclusively, “Von” closes up the album as a contrast to the electric version on Hvarf. Heim allows for Sigur Rós’ classical prowess to shine, leaving listeners with an intimate understanding of their super-human talent.
Hvarf/Heim is a rewarding rehash of memories for those who are already fans of Sigur Rós; however, it’s quintessentially mystical and cathartic enough to introduce a new listener to the sound.
